


Part One: The Goblet of Fire

by DesertPersephone



Series: I Love Magic, a Hogwarts AU [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F, Jaskier is a Slytherin, M/M, Masc 4 masc, Multi, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Triwizard Tournament, get your appetites whet for the main course, that last tag is a joke - Freeform, the harry potter au no one asked me for, this is really just an intro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23851462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertPersephone/pseuds/DesertPersephone
Summary: It's the start of his sixth year at Hogwarts, and Jaskier Pankratz is more then prepared to spend it the way he had spent his last five years.Until it's announced that Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament for the first time in ages, and will be welcome two foreign schools.Things really start to get exciting when one of the visiting students is none other then Geralt Rivia, the slightly infamous White Warlock.*Geralt isn't someone who has, or makes, a lot of friends. He has a reputation and people tend to make him nervous.But since coming to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament, he can't seem to shake this rather annoying British student.And he can't say that he minds.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: I Love Magic, a Hogwarts AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718743
Comments: 20
Kudos: 194





	Part One: The Goblet of Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! You have stumbled in the AU you didn't ask me for!
> 
> This was inspired by some amazing fanart over on tumblr: [feelfeli's hogwarts au](https://feelfeli.tumblr.com/post/611152428978585600/hogwarts-au-in-which-all-witchers-are-durmstrang)
> 
> Some notes about this story:  
> This will be a six part fic, with each part focusing mainly on one major event from the Triwizard Tournament and how our character react and interact with each other, slowly developing their relationship. Basically it's gonna be a slow burn filled with lots of pining which i never write. The last part will be a smutty epilogue set in the future, because I can't help myself hehe. Also, Voldemort doesn't exist but time period wise, this basically takes place in the 90s when the OG book is set (this is not important at all, i just thought you should know). additionally, in the HP universe, apparently a Warlock is a wizard for is proficient at duelling and martial magic, hence the name White Warlock.
> 
> This first piece is a little slow, I think, but bare with me, we have some juicy stuff planned for the future.
> 
> Also the masc 4 masc tag is a joke.

~

The air was chilly, just the right end of nippy, cold enough that Jaskier was damn well glad he had grabbed his scarf and entirely regretting not grabbing his gloves. His hands were bunched up in the pockets of his robes, seeking any and all warmth as the moments ticked on, the sun sinking lower and the air grew chiller. As excited as he was – meeting new people was always something that Jaskier enjoyed – as much as he couldn’t wait for the arrival of the other schools, he was fairly annoyed they couldn’t have shown up in warmer weather! What was stopping them from have just shown up this afternoon! Or even last week, when the weather was unseasonably, boiling hot! Utterly inconsiderate, making him wait in the cold and delaying his dinner.

But just as Jaskier was sinking deeper and deeper into his own sulking, a shout went up from another group of students, the Hufflepuffs, and fingers started pointing to the sky, younger students straining to see the slowly growing speck in the fading light. And then the speck became a dot and the dot became more dots and then the dots became objects and the objects became a carriage and the utterly massive steeds pulling it through the sky.

The entire school let out a collective gasp, and someone else shrieked as the carriage careened through the sky, nearly taking off one of the school’s turrets before landing on the pristine lawn between the assembled students and the gamekeeper’s hut. Well, the lawn had been pristine anyway, at least until the carriage made its rather bouncy and turbulent stop, leaving deep gashes through the earth, turning up the dirt in its wake. But it was a sight all the same and Jaskier couldn’t help but stand on his tiptoes to see who would emerge, even if he were more than tall enough to see over the students in front of him.

The door of the powder blue carriage opened and within moments, the field was occupied by the students of Beauxbatons Academy and their rather striking Head Mistress. They seemed to not have packed for a British winter and instead were shivering through their fine powder blue silk robes as their Head Mistress exchanged pleasantries and greetings with the Hogwarts staff and the air fell silent again.

Everyone was holding their breath, now absolutely rapped and excited to see what marvel the Durmstrang Institute might arrive with. Some were squinting at the sky, now deep purple, while others murmured quietly, regarding either the arrival of the carriage and its Abraxan steeds or the foreign students themselves. Jaskier sorely wished they weren’t organized by house and that he could be murmuring comments to Essi, his absolutely best (and only) friend in the world. But she was a Hufflepuff.

He stood on his toes and scanned the crowd of students in yellow, trying to pick her out among the others when his eyes landed on something else entirely. There was… something happening with the lake. Pitch-black waves were slowly starting to agitate the water, hardly visible in the fading light, a barely there spiral of movement that began to grow –

“The lake!” Jaskier thrust his hand out in the direction of what he was seeing, almost taking out another Slytherin in the process. He gave the other student a sheepish grin that was quickly lost as the whirlpool in the lake grew larger and more turbulent, waves of inky water starting to slap the shores. And then it was as if they were witnessing the reverse of a great ship being swallowed by the sea; the tip of the figurehead erupted from the water first, followed by masts and sails and ropes, before the shadow of an enormous ship finally busting through the water. It was far more ridiculous of a spectacle then the arrival of Beauxbatons, water streaming from the sails and ropes, and the students of both schools twittered excitedly as the ship finally came bobbing to a halt and dropped anchor into the lake.

But the whispering was not just the out of excitement. Durmstrang had a certain… reputation, which they did nothing but encourage, and everyone was not only excited to meet students from the North, but also eager to see if their lived up to the rumors that surrounded the school. And after a while, a slow procession made its way up the bank, a group of teenagers dressed in thick red wool and heavy furs, led by their stern looking headmaster, before finally joined the other schools. There was another exchange of greeting before the visiting schools made their way through the space formed between the Hogwarts students and inside the castle, to the waiting tables in the Great Hall.

Jaskier was struck with how beautiful the Beauxbaton’s attendees were, even if they were shivering under their eggshell thin silks, and he was almost tempted to offer his scarf to a tan skinned girl with pretty curls. At least until the person next to him pushed him slightly, trying themselves to get a better look at someone and Jaskier followed their gaze, eyes widening.

The Durmstrang students filed by, all just as stern and serious looking as their headmaster, but there at the front of the group, in his red robes and his fur cloak, alongside an equally gorgeous dark-haired woman with purple eyes, easily standing a head above some of the others, milk-white hair shimmering in the torch light and golden eyes skimming the crowd was –

“That’s Geralt Rivia!” Someone whispered. “That’s the White Warlock!”

And all Jaskier could think, was how unbelievably gorgeous the infamous wizard was as his eyes found Jaskier’s in the crowd.

~

Of all the schools possible, Jaskier really shouldn’t have been surprised that Geralt Rivia attended Durmstrang. Really he shouldn’t. The school was known for teaching darker magic then others, and there was a reason they called him _warlock._

Jaskier knew the story well, most people born into wizarding families did, but it had also happened during his lifetime and he remembered his father and mother discussing it over dinner the summer of his 12th year, vehement that Geralt should have been sentenced to Azkaban, or at least had his wand broken… Imagine that, a 13 year-old sentenced to _prison._ Geralt’s name had appeared in every issue of the Prophet for over a year, recounting time, and time the story of the child who had faced _and defeated_ ten other Dark wizards in a town square. British Ministry officials argued back and forth about what should be done with Geralt, some claiming that he was a danger to the Statute of Secrecy, while others claimed he was only acting in defense of both himself and other children in the square, and still others marveling at the raw _power_ the white haired boy seemed to possess.

In the end, Geralt was not stripped of his wand, he was not sentenced to time in any prison, British or otherwise, and was allowed to return to school.

And now that he was thinking about it, Jaskier was sure that the papers had mention that Geralt was a student of Durmstrang, and of course they would bring their most talented students along. The Tournament was notoriously difficult.

So really, Jaskier shouldn’t be surprised. And he really should be surprised that the Durmstrang students seemed to have kinship with the Slytherins, Dark attracts Dark of course. Not that all Slytherins were Dark or that everyone who went to Durmstrang was Dark…. But it was a good analogy in Jaskier’s head. And honestly, he had never really been excited to _be_ a Slytherin before the night the other schools arrived, casually squeezing himself between a couple of Durmstrang students, proudly showing of his proficiency in Polish and his ability to _Switch It On_.

But… disappointingly so, the White Warlock seemed completely and entirely bored. He had sat a distance away from the rest of the students and seemed to only interact with the girl he had walked in with. Which was a little disheartening for Jaskier, but he refused to give up.

And that was why, at the first chance, the first glimpse of Geralt alone, he jumped on the opportunity.

He was just walking out to the greenhouses when he had peeked into the Great Hall, looking for Essi and instead spotting Geralt. The other wizard was hunched over a plate at the Slytherin table, focused on a book when Jaskier had approached, and just like every time he encountered the rather quiet and stoic man, Jaskier was always shocked at how big he was. He was tall and broad for a teenager, with a strong, smooth jaw and a nose that looked like it had been broken at least once. Today, as with most days, his white hair was pulled back, half up half down, and he clad in his school uniform; a thick scarlet wool tunic, belted, with a pair of well pressed trousers. He was like a beacon for Jaskier, the white hair and the red shirt, calling to him.

“Hello.” Jaskier said, rather casually as he slid into the seat across from Geralt. “You know, I really do love that brooding attitude, really, it just adds to the general air of mystery that seems to follow you.”

Jaskier smiled as Geralt glanced up, throwing in just an extra bat of his eyelashes.

But Jaskier was only given a grunt in response.

For all his effort! A grunt!

He made a face.

“I saw you put your name in.” Jaskier tried again, thinking back to the day. It had been a couple days after the two schools had arrived and the Ministry officials had officially opened the tournament. Jaskier and Essi had taken to sitting on the seats raised around the room they had placed the Goblet in, with other underage students, content on observing and gossiping. Which is exactly what they had been doing when the doors opened and the students from Durmstrang filed in, ever beautiful and stunning as always, and one by one stepped past the Age Line to drop their names in for consideration. And when Geralt has turned away from the Goblet, his eyes had met with Jaskier’s yet again, and the younger swore he felt the world stop.

“Hmm.”

Seriously? Another grunt?

Alright. Fine. This would be harder then he thought it would be.

“How are you finding Hogwarts? Its nice right? Spring is my favorite season, but Fall’s good too, you get to see the trees change.” Jaskier tapped his fingers on the wood gently and he definitely saw Geralt’s eyes flick up for a split second. “Do you have a favorite season?”

A moment passed before,

“Summer.”

“Oh, that’s lovely.” Jaskier grinned, ridiculously eager to get Geralt into conversation. At least until the other started to pack up his things. “Wait, wait, wait, where are you going?”

Jaskier struggled to untangle his legs from under the table and follow after Geralt, who seemed surprising nimble on his feet for such a large man.

“Class.”

“Oh yeah? Which one?”

“Advanced Herbology.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened and his smile spread. “You don’t say? That’s my next class as well. Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

Geralt definitely gave a rather unamused grunt in response and Jaskier took it only as farther encouragement.

~

It turned out that Geralt and Jaskier had a few classes together, even if Jaskier was a year below him. In addition to Advanced Herbology, there was also Charms – which they also had with the only Durmstrang student Geralt seemed to like, Yennefer Vengerberg – and Jaskier spotted Geralt heading toward the paddock for Care of Magical Creatures the next morning. He wasn’t the only student from Durmstrang heading out of the Great Hall, but he was separated from them once again, just like that first night at the feast and Jaskier was starting to think that maybe Geralt wasn’t separating himself from his classmates but that they were separating themselves from him, and perhaps Yennefer wasn’t the only person Geralt liked, but the only person who liked Geralt.

“Rather lovely to see you again,” Jaskier said as he caught up with Geralt, presenting the other with a grin. He had also discovered that he and Geralt were near the same height, the white-haired man only claimed a few inches on Jaskier, but his broad shoulders and rather ridiculously large biceps made him look that much bigger.

Geralt looked up at Jaskier’s voice, and Jaskier was _certain_ that he detected the hint of a smile from the other. Along with a grunt of hello.

“Brisk morning isn’t it? And nice way to start the day.” It didn’t really matter if Geralt was going to talk or not, Jaskier was more then capable of keeping a conversation going by himself, something he had subjected Geralt to plenty of times at this point already. So far the other didn’t seem to mind really at all. Which was nice. Because usually people told him to fuck off almost immediately.

“I’m not going lie to you though… this year our professor decided all the students have to help take care of the absolute worst creatures imaginable.” Jaskier told Geralt, figuring it would be good to clue him in on the curriculum. He suspected that most of the core classes were easy enough to slip into halfway through the term, but electives were always a different beast. “Do you have Care of Magical Creatures at Durmstrang?”

Usually Geralt completely ignored Jaskier’s questions about curriculum, or really about most things, but this time he nodded, humming in response.

“We do.” He said. “Though, we covered bowtruckles in my second year.” That was definitely a little smirk and Jaskier gave a chuckle, wishing that cheeky _bowtruckle_ was all they were going to be dealing with today.

“Here,” He said, digging an extra pair of dragon hide gloves out of his bag and holding them out to Geralt. “You’ll need these.”

Taking the gloves, Geralt frowned deeply, lines settling into his forehead and Jaskier almost reached up to smooth them away. “Why would I need these?”

Giving a shake of his head, Jaskier looked up as they approached the paddock, and the hissing boxes that contained their rather evil class pets came into view.

“For them.” He said, pointing, as if Geralt could miss the boxes.

“What the fuck are those?”

“Oh, my dear heart, you’re going to wish that we were just studying bowtruckles. _Those_ are Blast-Ended Skrewts.”

As it turned out, Geralt had heard of the nasty buggers, but they weren’t a standard in class at Durmstrang. In fact, Geralt seemed to know quite a bit about magical creatures, far more then his classmates, and far more then Jaskier, who had taken the class with the mild hope he could ride a unicorn. Which Geralt dutifully told him was silly because Jaskier was a boy and unicorns only let girls near them when Jaskier told him that later in class as they attempted – failed – to “walk” their Skrewt.

“I’m a very effeminate boy,” Jaskier pointed out as the Skrewt took a break from hauling the two of them around the paddocks to just… seemingly lay on the ground. He wanted to argue very much that walking them like dogs seemed to be utterly useless, but at least he was paired with Geralt.

Geralt gave Jaskier glance, from his suede creepers to his striped socks, finely pressed trousers and up to the purple varnished nails that pushed his bangs off his forehead for a moment before giving a quick laugh, a puff of air through his nose.

“You’re not wrong about that.”

“So, I think it’s rather likely a unicorn could mistake me for a virginal maiden…” Jaskier hesitated and quirked his eyebrows up, looking away from Geralt, twisting the leash around one of his hands. “Except for the virgin part.”

But the Skrewt gave a well-timed blast and shot forward, pulling Jaskier off his feet with the force, dragging him along the damp, rough turf of the paddock. He screamed, he did, and he could hear Geralt laughing as he clapped a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder and hauled him upright once the Skrewt decided to stop.

“I hope you’re good at cleaning spells.” Geralt chuckled, brushing a hand over Jaskier’s chest to try and dislodge some of the dirt clods sticking to his jumper. Jaskier’s ears flushed pink at the sensation of the firm hand on his stomach and he tried to come up with something to say that wasn’t the giggle of a nervous schoolgirl.

“Y-yeah.” He agreed, bracing himself against Geralt, his own hand gripping the other’s bicep. “This jumper might be done for.”

Geralt just hummed in response, the ghost of a smile still resting on his lips. At least until a jeer came from the group of Durmstrang students and Geralt’s face hardened as they looked up at the other boys across the paddock. Jaskier couldn’t understand what they were saying, taunting Geralt in what sounded like Serbian, but he didn’t really need to speak the language to understand. They were making fun of them, of Geralt for being nice, of having a friend.

“Geralt…” Jaskier scowled at the other boys before looking up to catch Geralt’s gaze, giving his arm a little squeeze. But it was too late, the smile was gone and Geralt had re-established the distance between them again. He let go of Jaskier and shrugged off the hand on his arm, turning away from the boys, crossing his arms over his chest.

He stayed silent and stoic for the rest of the lesson, ignoring all of Jaskier’s attempts to pull him into conversation or even to elicit just a measly grunt from him. And when the class had ended, Geralt grabbed his bag as quickly as he could before stalking off toward the lake’s edge, leaving Jaskier to hike back to the castle for Muggle Studies.

*

It was raining again. It rained far more then Geralt thought that it would in Britain. Yes, of course he had heard the stereotypes, but he just hadn’t thought that they were… real. Though, rain was far better then snow, and Geralt could imagine how slick the steps from the boat house would grow later in the year. The wet stone was already a hazard and his foot slipped as he stepped and he just barely caught himself on the balustrade, Yennefer’s hand reaching out to brace against his chest.

“Careful,” she said as they finally stepped into the entrance hall. “Wouldn’t want you to break your nose, since you’re going to see your new boyfriend tonight.”

Geralt whipped his head around to look at her, scowling heavily at what she was implying. And as much as he wanted to deny it, he could definitely feel his cheeks heating up at her comment.

“Jaskier isn’t – he’s just – “

“Just what? A friend?”

Geralt rolled his eyes as absolutely hard as he could before motioning for her to go ahead of him. She pasted Geralt with a chuckle, pushing her hood back and smoothing the damp baby hairs along her forehead as they stepped into the Great Hall. Most of the Hogwarts students had already assembled at their tables, and the students from Beauxbatons were at the table they always sat with, attempting to dry their soaked silks. Geralt snorted a little, smirking, until he noticed Yennefer fluttering her fingers toward one of the girls.

“Who is that?” He asked, watching as the girl’s dark skin flushed and she returned the wave.

“An old friend.” She explained, glancing over her shoulder at him. “From when I went to Beauxbatons. Why, are you jealous?”

“No.” He knew he answered far too quickly, and he could hear Yennefer’s low laugh. But his attention was quickly redirected to the hand that was trying to wave him down as they approached the Slytherin table.

“Geralt! Hey! Geralt!”

_Jaskier…._

Yennefer spared an other glance over her shoulder before heading right for Jaskier, forcing Geralt to follow after her. And when she reached the seats that Jaskier had saved, obviously just for him and Geralt, she gave him a sweet smile as he moved to make room. Geralt carefully adjusted the cuffs of his tunic, before reaching up to tuck the few stray strands of wet hair back and behind his ear before moving to sit.

“Oh, hello,” His grin seemed a little nervous and his gaze darted to Geralt who realized he was waiting for an introduction.

“Err, this is Yennefer,” He said as he squeezed into the space between the two. “Yen, this is Jaskier. She has Charming Class with us.”

“I remember.” Jaskier brightened immediately and he reached across Geralt to shake Yennefer’s hand. “Wonderful to meet you.”

“And you.” Yen nodded before retracting her hand. Jaskier smiled again, bright, and pleasant, and happy, and Geralt couldn’t help the twitch of his lips as the Hogwarts Headmaster stepped up to his podium and the room fell dead silent. Looking up at the staff table, Geralt was afforded with the sight of Jaskier’s head, of his rather soft and feathery looking hair, hair that seemed to smell like honey and summer roses –

Geralt quickly looked away, at the golden plate in front of him. He was so close to Jaskier, their thighs were almost touching, and he really should be paying attention to whatever was coming out of the Headmaster’s mouth and not thinking about how soft and wonderful Jaskier’s fucking hair looked.

He gave a little shake of his head and refocused, gold eyes fixed on the old wizard before them. He was thanking the schools for joining them, expressing his excitement for the tournament, and announcing that tonight the champions would be chosen. That was a well-known fact, and everyone had been counting down the days since the arrival of the other two schools, but the verbal reminder set everyone in the room twittering with excitement. Jaskier turned in his seat to look at Geralt, excitement shining in his eyes.

“But first, dinner!”

The food appeared just as magically as it had the first time, plates and dishes and bowls of food and despite how hungry Geralt had been when they had left the ship, it had evaporated at the reminder that in just an hour or so, he might know if he would be a champion. His stomach clenched at the idea, worry clawing at him as he numbly scooped some beef pie onto his plate. Jaskier seemed to notice the way he was just mushing his food around on his plate, because he felt a knee bump against his and when Geralt looked at the other, he could see the way Jaskier’s brows were knitted, his usually jubilant smile replaced with a frown.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, and it was almost as is he didn’t want anyone around them to be altered to Geralt’s distress. Which was ridiculous, why would Jaskier give a fuck about Geralt?

“Fine.” He grunted back, forcing down a forkful of food. His answer did nothing to ease the concern on Jaskier’s face, but he didn’t press the issue, instead filling the silence with jabbering, telling a story about people Geralt didn’t know. It seemed to amuse Yennefer though, and if he was being honest, the sound of Jaskier’s voice and Yen’s occasional comment was soothing, distracting enough that he managed to swallow down a few more bites.

At least until they were finishing desert. Jaskier had some horribly wet looking piece of bread on his plate, which he kept calling it ‘dick’ while attempting to convince the other two to try a bite. Geralt had fixed him with a heavy glare and shake of his head that sent Jaskier into a peel of laughter, broken only when the deserts disappeared suddenly, signaling the end of the feast. The hall fell silent again and all eyes obediently turned to focus on the doors, honing in on the great wooden goblet that was being brought into the hall and set in full view of the assembled students.

People were whispering, muttering, and murmuring as the heads of the three schools came forward to the goblet. The candles extinguished themselves and soon the room was eliminated solely by the light coming from the blue flames. A hush fell over the room as they all waited, stretching long and silent until the goblet sparked and the flames roared up, bright red and sparking. A tongue of flame shot out and the headmaster reached out to catch the charred paper that fluttered from it.

“The Hogwarts champion is,” He said, pausing to look out over the assembled students. “Valdo Marx!”

A roar went up from the Gryffindor table and a tall boy with a mop of curly hair stood from his peers, grinning proudly as he people clapped him on the back. Students cheered and stamped and shook excited fists into the air as he made his way up to the staff table, proudly puffing out his chest. Jaskier, however, was far less then pleased at the news.

“Oh, bloody hell! No! Boo! Bollocks!” He shouted, cupping his hands over his mouth to make sure Valdo heard him. And he did, but instead of looking offended or reacting in any other way that Geralt was sure Jaskier wanted, he met Jaskier’s eyes and sent him an air kiss. Which only seemed to rile the other up and Geralt found himself reaching out to grab hold of Jaskier’s robes to keep him in his seat.

“This is bloody ridiculous. _Him? Of all people?!”_ Jaskier was still muttering under his breath as the hall grew silent again and the goblet sparked and flashed red for a second them.

“The champion for Beauxbatons is,”

The excitement from the French students was more than palpable.

“Triss Merigold!”

More cheering and clapping as the girl stood and Geralt saw that it was Yennefer’s friend. He clapped a little louder while Yennefer put her fingers in her mouth to whistle.

But when the applause died down this time, Geralt felt that pit return in his stomach. He felt like he might vomit, and his hands curled into fists in his lap. He felt Yennefer’s hand on his broad back, rubbing a little calming circle there.

The goblet sputtered red, spark flew, a piece of parchment was spat out.

“The champion of Durmstrang,”

Geralt’s ears were ringing.

“is Geralt Rivia!”

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to chat or shout or tell me your headcanons and ideas about this au or joey batey or the witcher or any of the fics i've written, find me on tumblr at [thequeenofcarvenstone](https://thequeenofcarvenstone.tumblr.com/)


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